Which song is playing on repeat as I write this: ILYA, Fly By Midnight
What I'm doing as I write this: sitting in a dark room, all by myself, even though I'm afraid of the dark.
Here we go.
It's been so long since I've written something just to vent. I've been so caught up in trying to make myself a successful writer that I forgot why I began writing in the first place. I forgot what it felt like to write like a lunatic, a romantic, a madperson, a person who's simply in love with writing for the sake of writing.
Writing is like breathing and I haven't felt air in my lungs since so long now, even though I've written.
I'm afraid that one day, I'll stop loving manipulating words and bending them to my will, I'll stop loving making them take shapes that I want them to take and I'll just be empty with no passion. I am already halfway there of course but I don't know what will happen if I get there.
I'm afraid of that day, I suppose. The human race is filled with passion. Take out the passion and you're no longer human, are you?
There is an appeal in being inhuman but I'd be a human alien then and I don't know what to make of that.
I've forgotten what love feels ever since I fell out of love. I don't think I want to forget what writing feels like either.
For me there lines between life and death have been blurred. Not into a grey region with something else in between. I just can't make what's life and what's death.
Tell me, when you're all alone in the darkness, with no one around, with no one to see or hear or feel you, are you really alive? When no one remembers you and you are all alone, aren't you dead already? How do you know you're even real? How do you know any of this is real? How can I know that someone is actually reading this and this isn't all just in my head?
Heck, how can I even know that I know I'm not real? It gives me a mindfuck to think all of this? It's scary in a way
Imagine living on an island, surrounded with only water, no fishes. What if that is the reality and this is a dehydrated delusion?
How can I know we're real?
YOU ARE READING
The thoughts in my head
RandomJust a random bunch of my thoughts. Don't wanna read it? Then don't. This is for me, for my damn suicidal self. Don't read this if you are suicidal too. Not meant for you. What you need to do is get help. Tell someone, anyone. Someone does care even...
